


Things You Do Don't Seem Real

by penandpage



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Service Dogs, ballet teacher natasha romanov, child oc, single dad bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22225594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penandpage/pseuds/penandpage
Summary: Single father Bucky Barnes juggles work and caring for his young daughter, and he does it well. He is perfectly content with his life - he's not looking for anything more. That little crush he has on his daughter's ballet teacher, Natasha? Well, he just doesn't have time for that, now does he?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26
Collections: BuckyNat Secret Santa 2019





	Things You Do Don't Seem Real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Murderonthemattress](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Murderonthemattress).



> Hi! I know I'm technically a day late, but in my defense, I haven't gone to sleep yet, so as far as I'm concerned, it's still the 11th. This was supposed to be short and sweet, and then. Like. The concept got to me ??? And I had to keep going. I hope you like it :)

Bucky kicked the dirt from his boots before climbing into his truck. It wasn't enough to clean them, but he was head-to-toe filthy, so it didn't really matter. He would have preferred to go home and change out of his work clothes, maybe even take a good, hot shower to ease his aching bones... But he was running late.

It was alright, he had called ahead, and been told to take as long as he needed - he just didn't like to take advantage of hospitality like that. He wasn't the sort to overstay his welcome. So as he sped down the road, hoping not to pass a cop, he wondered which would be more impolite: To go in with his mud-crusted boots and scuff up the nice floors, or to go in without shoes at all, looking like some kind of builder-hobo. 

"Ugh, it's a wash," he grumbled, parking haphazardly on the wrong side of the street. He scrambled out into the road, and a driver leaned on their horn as they swerved around him. "Six of one, half a dozen of the other, isn't it?"

He wasn't embarrassed about his appearance, not per se; construction was a dirty job, that couldn't be helped. But he didn't want to make a mess of someone else's space, especially not when they were doing him a favor.

_"More like when they're that pretty,"_ said a voice in his head, accompanied by an unbidden flash of red hair. Fidgeting, Bucky cleared his throat at no one and pushed that thought aside. That was quite literally not a crush he could afford to have, and so he had been carefully refusing to entertain it. Even still, he gave his boots an extra thump against the curb before rushing inside.

He took the stairs three at a time, careening around the corners at dangerous angles. And yet he still paused for a moment outside the door to tug the wrinkles from his jacket and straighten his hair. He gave the door a cautious push, and poked his head inside - he didn't want to startle anyone. But there was no one to startle.

Puzzled, he took a step in, and called out, "...Hello?"

"Mr. Barnes! Thank god you're here!"

The frantic exclamation instantly set him on edge, hairs prickling and an icy shock running through his blood. He scanned the room wildly, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but still he drew himself up, ready for attack or disaster. Natasha ran up to him and seized the front of his shirt.

"They've had us pinned down for hours!" she declared, tugging him closer as he reeled. "I've held them off as long as I could, but my supplies are running thin, and I've already lost my best man!"

Absolutely bewildered, Bucky stammered, "Wha- ?? I--"

"Are you listening to me, man?!" Natasha demanded. "Agent Zefir is down, and we are still under siege!"

"Agent Zef--" Bucky cut himself short, shutting his eyes in a long, slow blink. He understood now. Zefir was Natasha's Samoyed. A tiny suppressed giggle from behind the cubbies (as if he couldn't see her reflected in the mirror wall) further informed him of what was happening.

"That's right," Natasha said gravely, though she could no longer stifle a grin. "It's ninja unicorn wizards."

Bucky took Natasha's hands in his, looked her oh-so-seriously in the eye, and let out a resigned sigh. "My oldest foe."

"Oh, I can see why," Natasha said reverently.

Bucky slipped out of his boots, stripped off his jacket, said, "Follow me," and dropped to his stomach. The two of them army crawled across the smooth wood floors. Their goal was the dog bed, occupied by a mass of white fluff, against the opposite wall, but they had to cross enemy territory to get there. There was no cover to speak of, so they would have to be swift and silent, and hope the opposition would look away at the right moment. Just a few more feet…

“Aaaahh!!” cried Bucky, rolling over as he was descended on by a tiny assailant who tickled him without mercy. “I’m done for! Save yourself! Tell my story!!!”

He flailed his limbs, tossing his body around in dramatic death throes. He gurgled horribly, and reached out for Natasha to save him, despite his earlier order. She (stifling a snicker) shook her head, and chose instead to press on to Agent Zefir. He could not blame her for that. Accepting his defeat at last, he let his limbs collapse pathetically against the wood floors, his tongue lolling out of his drooping head.

A moment passed. Then another. A small weight alighted on his breast. He cracked an eyelid. A pair of green-blue eyes, quite like his own, stared at him from beneath a mess of flyaway red hair pulled from a once pristine bun. They were wide and worried, but a blink later and they relaxed.

"Hi, Daddy," squeaked the tiny voice from his tiny daughter. Bucky let a grin spread across his face.

"Hi, _printsessa_ ," he said. 

He pushed himself up on his elbows, and Rose threw herself against his chest. Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her in his daily I-missed-you-all-day bear hug. He took a deep whiff of her hair. There was something there, at the top of her little head, that always felt like home. When he smelled it, the hardships of his day would melt away as he was reminded what he worked so hard for. He sat up, crossed his legs, and settled her in his lap.

"How are you? How was your day?" he asked, while Rose played with the buttons on his shirt.

"Good," she said, "I worked on my peeay-- pluh--"

" _Pliés_ ," offered Natasha from across the room, bending her knees to display the move. "And she's getting _so_ good at them."

With a soft, yet still exaggerated gasp, Bucky gave Rose a little shake, and bade, "You better show me!"

Rose scrambled to her feet. She raised her hands above her head, pointed out her little toes, and did a few clumsy-ish bends. Bucky didn't know anything about dance, and prior to about two months ago, he wouldn't have cared to learn. But Rose loved Natasha's class, so now he was her captive audience. The fact that he didn't know how well she was doing was probably for the best.

Rose had apparently finished, because she now stood still, raising her eyebrows expectantly. Taking his cue, Bucky threw his hands together, filling the studio with the sound of jubilant applause.

"Woo! Go, Rose!" Natasha joined in, and her dog, never one to be left out for long, soon followed suit. 

"Wow," Bucky marveled as Rose took her bow. "You've gotta be the best student here."

"You know what? She actually is," said Natasha casually, clipping Zefir's leash to his vest. Bucky gave her a quizzical look. Either she was completely sincere, or a very good actress. He couldn't tell which.

He shrugged, and turned back to his daughter. "That sounds to me like someone who deserves a treat for all their hard work," he mused. "Maybe... _ice cream?"_

He had expected Rose to squeal and wiggle, unable to contain herself as she often did at the suggestion of sweets. Bucky made enough to get by, but sometimes had to make his paycheck stretch a little far for comfort. So despite his sweet tooth (which his child had unfortunately inherited), he rarely sprung for them, preferring to spend his money on healthier fare. Rose usually bounced off the walls just at the thought of ice cream, but now she crossed her arms and looked at him as sternly as her tiny face could muster. 

"Vegetles first," she declared. Bucky reeled, brows furrowed. 

"That's right," Natasha agreed, pulling on her jacket as she and Zefir strode up to them. Zefir nosed into Bucky's head, and he absently raked a hand through his fluffy fur. He was painfully aware of how close Natasha was, her short dance skirt just inches from his face, and he wilfully looked anywhere else. "Good dancers need strong bodies. And what do strong bodies need?"

"Balanced diets!" shouted Rose triumphantly, raising her fists into the air.

"Boom! Up top!" said Natasha, and the girls high fived in front of a bewildered Bucky.

"I- Well... You're the boss, _printsessa,"_ Bucky stammered incredulously. "Vegetables first. Go on, go get your stuff."

Rose nodded and ran off to change her shoes and pack her bag. Natasha offered Bucky a hand and pulled him to his feet.

"We had sort of an impromptu nutrition lesson today," Natasha offered by way of explanation. "One of the girls was talking about her older sister, said she's been skipping meals to fit into her prom dress. She thought maybe they should all be doing that, since dancers are 'supposed to be skinny.'"

"Oof," Bucky commiserated.

"Yeah, I wasn't about to watch the eating disorders start here. Not in my class," Natasha vowed, shouldering her bag. She added darkly, "My old teachers used to encourage that shit. I saw… a lot of girls go down a bad way."

"I'm sorry."

"Mm," Natasha shrugged. She nodded towards Rose. "Breaking the cycle, right?"

"Yeah. Thank you," Bucky said sincerely.

"Any time."

Rose ran back over and seized her father's hand, jerking him towards the door. Natasha giggled, and she and her dog followed them out. They paused for a moment so she could lock up, then started down the stairs. 

They weren't quite wide enough for the four of them to walk abreast, so Rose asked if she could lead Zefir down. Bucky wasn't too sure about that - the dog was about twice her size. But he was calm and well-trained. And, well, he had to let her have new experiences, even if his Protective Dad Instincts didn't like them. 

So Rose took the leash with Natasha's permission, and held the rail at Bucky's caution. She took the stairs slowly and deliberately, watching her feet as she went down one step at a time. Zefir waited to go down until she had both feet on the same stair, every time.

"He's pretty patient," Bucky remarked, he and Natasha following a few steps behind.

"Yeah, he's a good boy," Natasha said distractedly. "Do you think I should say something?"

Confused, Bucky asked, "About what?"

"The girl who's skipping meals," said Natasha. "I'm doing what I can for her little sister, but should I tell her parents about it?"

Bucky considered her, biting his lip. Fondly, he teased, "I think we both know you're gonna do it no matter what I say."

Natasha snorted, and snickered, "Well, you've figured out this puzzle a lot faster than any boyfriend I ever had."

Bucky blinked hard and turned away, hoping she wouldn't notice the color creeping into his cheeks. If she did, she didn't say so.

Rose and Zefir had reached the bottom landing. They almost headed out the door without thinking, but Bucky called out, "Wait!" in his most commanding Dad voice, and they both froze.

"Sorry, Daddy," Rose said sheepishly, and Bucky gave her an indulgent nod. She handed Zefir's leash back to Natasha, knowing she wouldn't be allowed to lead him once they were outside. "Thank you for playing with me today, Miss Nat!"

"Any time, _Rozochka_ ," assured Natasha with a wink, and Rose beamed.

Bucky held the door open for the girls and the dog, and they all waved goodbye and parted ways.

Bucky strapped Rose into her booster seat with practiced hands. He double and triple checked the belt across her lap and chest, and checked the buckle even more. As he shut the door firmly, he allowed himself a chuckle at the inherent paranoia of fatherhood.

Even now, six years in, he could never get over how small she was. He wouldn't call her fragile - he had seen her fall, hard, and pick herself back up just fine too many times for that. But that didn't stop him from wanting to be as careful as he could with her.

Before she was born, he'd have never thought he would have the capacity for this. He had always been a man who loved fiercely and deeply, but this was something else entirely. He worried about her every minute of every day - how she was feeling, if she would get hurt or sick, if she was eating right, how she was developing, all of it. And not only did he worry, but he was gleeful to do so. It was exciting and fun to be her father. Watching her grow was a privilege, and he didn't take it lightly. He even looked forward to the hard days, from scraped knees to temper tantrums, even to adolescence - though he wouldn't mind if that took its sweet time getting here. And by G-d, he could _never_ get over how a creature like him, with hands so rough and a soul so heavy, could treat her so very very gently. 

The slam of the door as he climbed into the driver's seat pulled him out of his introspection. He gave himself a shake. Driving, especially with his precious package in the back seat, was not the best time to be on autopilot. He started the engine, and pulled out into the road. It only took a moment or two for Rose, as was her custom, to start singing to herself.

_"She's driving me crazy, oooh oh, like no one else, ohh oohh,"_ she sang quietly, watching the world go by the window.

"Where did you learn that?" Bucky laughed, sure he had never played it for her.

"Miss Nat taught us!" Rose piped up, clicking her heels together. "She said it would drive our parents crazy."

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly.

"Well, joke's on her," he croaked. "That's my jam."

Stuck at a red light, he took the liberty of queueing the song up on his phone so they could sing along. If she was going to sing it, he might as well make the best of it, and make sure she got it right. He had once made the mistake of not letting her learn all the words to Radio Gaga. As much joy as hearing her tiny singing gave him, every father has his limit - "all we hear is radio goo-goo ga-ga" over and over for two weeks was his.

He was glad, though, that she was having such a good time in dance class. You could never really tell from the outside how well something like that would go, no matter how much you tried to vet everyone involved. And looking back on the beginning of this arrangement in particular, it could have gone a much different way.

Bucky and Rose had met Natasha in the lobby of their building. They had seen each other a few times in passing, but Bucky wasn't much for talking to the neighbors, so they had never really spoken. They had exchanged friendly greetings, and he knew her name from the label on the door buzzer, but nothing more. Bucky was looking through the mail when Natasha and her dog walked by on the way to the elevator.

"Daddy, a doggy!" Rose exclaimed excitedly.

"Mm, yeah," Bucky acknowledged absently. He glanced up to see Natasha engrossed in her phone while she waited for the elevator. She seemed busy, so if Rose asked to pet the dog, he would not let her bother her. The elevator dinged, and Natasha got on, so Bucky went back to his mail.

"Daddy, the doggy!"

"I see it, baby," said Bucky. Jesus, this one looked scary, it wasn't some kind of bill he wasn't expecting, was it?

"Daddy, the doggy!!"

"Yeah, I _know_ ," said Bucky, trying not to get too annoyed - she was only 6, after all. Oh, bullshit, this was a credit card ad. Fuck, does that actually work on anyone? Waste of paper for fuck's sake.

"Daddy!! _The doggy!!!"_ shrieked Rose, and this time he didn't miss the urgency in her voice. Nor the gurgled whimper from the direction of the elevator.

Natasha had gotten on. Her dog had not. 

"Oh, _shit_ ," Bucky breathed.

He dropped everything, the flutter of the envelopes in time with the hammering of his heart, and bolted to the dog. The leash was caught in the door, and the elevator pulled it ever upwards. If Bucky couldn't do something, the collar was about to become a noose.

He tried to wrench the leash out of the doors, but it was stuck. He tried to pull the collar over the dog's head but it was too tight. There wasn't time to meddle with clasps, his fingers clumsy with adrenaline. He could hear Natasha screaming, muffled and growing distant. Rose sobbed, the dog choked, Bucky's own blood pounded through his ears loud enough to drown it all out.

Time ran shorter. Bucky picked the dog up, hoping the extra height would give him enough slack. He fell off balance, and his shoulder slammed against the door. Then, as his open jacket bounced against his hip, he felt it - his pocket knife! He shot his hand into his pocket, snatched out the knife, flipped it open. 

He lifted his knee to support the dog between the door and his thigh, held the leash taut (" _Not that it needs the help",_ he thought through the panicked fever), and took a deep breath. The leash was made of thick leather, and it was strong. He was stronger. With one swift, sure motion, he sliced clean through it. 

At the sudden absence of tension, he and the dog collapsed. In a flood of relief, Bucky shut his eyes and took several deep and steadying breaths. He felt a pair of small arms fumbling around with the pile of fluff atop his belly. Rose had taken it upon herself to remove the wretched collar, and she threw it clean across the lobby as though it could try to kill the dog again of its own volition. The dog whimpered weakly, but licked her fingers in thanks.

Footsteps clattered through the stairwell, and Natasha popped through the door, crying, "Zefir!!"

She fell to her knees and slid across the floor to Bucky's side. Bucky sat up, holding out his hands to calm her.

"It's okay! It's okay!" he told her. "He's okay. He's fine."

Natasha pulled the dog into her lap, burying her face in his mass of white fluff. He wheezed, but wagged his tail, and Natasha visibly relaxed. She breathed deeply, assuring herself that he was alright. Bucky put a hand on her shoulder to ground her. She looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

"It's okay," he repeated, and she believed him.

"My Daddy saved him!" Rose declared. She held out her hand, giggling as the dog (" _Zefir, did she say? Apt,"_ Bucky thought, putting a hand through the could of fur) licked her fingers again. Natasha smiled.

"My hero," she sighed, and to her credit, it was only half sarcastic. Then, she furrowed her brow, pulled her phone from her pocket, and whispered, "Shit."

Realizing there was a child in her midst, she gave Rose a nervous glance, and then gave Bucky an apologetic look. He shook his head and shrugged - she didn't have to worry about it, he swore in front of her, too.

"Hm?" he hummed, nodding to her phone.

"I--" Natasha began, but stopped short, as she seemed to think better of herself. Bucky raised his eyebrows expectantly, and she stammered, "I-I… I think this is… paranoid… I want to get him checked out, but the vet closes in an hour, and it's 20 minutes away, and I don't have a car, and if I have to wait for an U--"

Bucky took her hand. He recognized the rising panic in her voice. He had heard it before. He had felt it, too. 

"It's okay," he said once more. "We'll take you."

Dismayed, Natasha said, "Oh, no. You don't have to do that. I'll take him in the mor--"

" _We're taking you_ ," said Bucky, firm as a stone. Natasha stared at him, mouth agape. She had perhaps not seen such fierce dedication to kindness in a while. But let it not be said that Bucky Barnes was a man who did not finish what he started. If he was going to save someone's life, human or canine, he was going to see it through to the end.

Rose tapped on Natasha's shoulder. She turned with a bemused look on her face. Rose cupped her hand around her ear and whispered something Bucky couldn't make out.

Natasha's eyes lit up, and she smirked. "James?"

Bucky's eyes widened, and he gave his daughter a what-the-hell? look. Before the name could cement in her mind, he blurted, " _Bucky_. My name is Bucky."

Natasha snorted, and covered her mouth to suppress any more laughter. Bucky glared at Rose. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he mirrored her.

"Well, James," teased Natasha, getting to her feet. "Lead the way."

They all clambered into Bucky's truck, and headed out of the city. The girls further exchanged names in the back seat, and Bucky tried to ignore the way his skin was still tingling. He told himself it was the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush, but he knew it wasn't. This was the first time he had given Natasha more than a cursory glance, but now that he got a real good look at her… he was having trouble stopping.

Shit, she was just… _perfect_ . He wasn't typically given to hyperbole, but he was pretty sure she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Those eyes? Those _lips?_ And fuck it all if he didn't have a g-ddamn thing for redheads.

Bucky groaned quietly to himself. _This_ he needed.

They arrived at the vet, and poured out of the truck. Inside, Natasha almost panicked when she was told there were no time slots available. Bucky stepped in and convinced the receptionist it was an emergency. They would have to wait until after closing, but a crisp $20 bill ensured that a doctor would see them. They took a seat in the waiting area, with Rose choosing to sit on the floor and pet Zefir.

Time passed achingly slow. Other patients and their owners trickled in and out. The sun went down. Zefir was in good spirits, as far as Bucky could tell, but he still had a bit of a wheeze. He knew it was stressing Natasha out. She seemed outwardly calm, resting her head on her fist, but her leg twitched up and down uncontrollably. With every squeaky breath from her dog, she shut her eyes like it was a gunshot.

She caught Bucky's eye, and blurted, "I'm not usually like this."

Bucky didn't say anything.

"I'm usually… much cooler," she continued unconvincingly, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"It's okay," Bucky assured. "We all lose ourselves when it's someone we love."

Natasha stared at him, chewing her lip. Turning away, she said, "Yeah. I guess so."

Bucky could tell there was more she wanted to say, but wouldn't. He wasn't going to press her.

Finally, Natasha was called into an exam room. Bucky was going to let her go in by herself, but there was a desperate, helpless look in her eyes, and he wasn't about to leave her alone. He and Rose went in for moral support.

After a nurse took his vitals, a doctor came in and started examining Zefir with barely a greeting. He was an older man, with crooked glasses, thinning hair, and a sour look on his face. He was vexed to be here, like an extra ten minutes was really keeping him from whatever miserable bullshit was waiting for him at home. Natasha explained what had happened (with help from Bucky), and he gave her a withering look.

"This wouldn't have happened if he was wearing a harness," he snapped.

Bucky reeled, and derided, "Right, because no one puts their dog in a collar."

"He wears a _vest_ ," Natasha said tersely. "I take it off him at home. He had a bath, he needed a quick walk before we settled in for the night, I went for the collar that takes 30 seconds to put on. _Is_ he okay?"

The doctor looked like he had a retort, but he bit his tongue. Natasha stared at him resolutely, and Bucky stood at his full height behind her back. Even Rose joined their united front, glaring up at the doctor with her little hands on her hips. The doctor sighed, rolling his eyes.

"He's _fine_ ," he said. "His airway is clear. There's a little bruising, but it should heal in a couple days. Make sure he takes it easy, give him wet or softened food and plenty of water, he'll be alright."

Natasha nodded, taking the first real breath she had all night. The doctor, softened now, wrote something in the chart.

"Here," he mumbled apologetically, "we'll give him something in case he has some pain. It's on me."

Natasha's lips parted in surprise, and she muttered, "Thank you."

The doctor nodded, gave Zefir a gentle pat, and left the room. Natasha groaned in relief and slumped into a chair.

"You have no idea what this dog means to me," she told Bucky, pinching her brow.

"Actually," grunted Bucky, sitting beside her. He had put two and two together when she mentioned the vest. "I think I do."

They watched each other for a while. Then Natasha said, "He's emotional support."

Bucky nodded. He'd thought as much. Natasha did not offer anything more, and he did not ask. It wasn't his place.

"Please," Natasha began, twisting in her seat to face him better. "What can I do to thank you?"

"Oh, you don't have to--" Bucky stammered.

"Come on, I'll do anything."

Bucky swallowed. In the old days, he would have taken an offer like that from a woman like this, and turned it into dinner, "Why don't you come in for one more drink?", and a long series of mistakes. But he didn't do that anymore. He had sworn it off - he had much more important things to concern himself with now. It was a policy that had served him well.

"Uh…" he breathed, turning away to look at Rose instead. She was playing peek-a-boo with a very patient Zefir. She was his reason for everything, and he wouldn't suffer distractions. No matter how nice Natasha smelled.

Natasha looked at Rose, too, and a grin spread across her face.

"You know..." she began, leaning closer conspiratorially, "I'm a ballet instructor." Bucky gave her a sideways glance, and she shrugged, "Free classes?"

Rose gasped, deep and exaggerated but totally pure. She slid across the floor and collided with her father's legs.

_"Daddy!"_ she pleaded, her voice resounding and urgent. Bucky snorted.

"Well, that's that."

And it was. Rose had been in Natasha's class for two months. Bucky thought by now they should have exhausted her gratefulness, but she never went back on her word. He had to cover the cost of the clothes and shoes, but there was no other whisper of payment. She must have had enough students to afford it. Or maybe she just liked Rose.

Either way, Bucky was grateful. It was three days a week of free after school care. That meant he didn't have to leave work early on the days her teacher, Steve, couldn't stay with her in the library, and his friend, Sam, couldn't pick her up.

And Rose really did love it. She was gaining confidence, making friends, learning new things about her body and how it moved. Natasha emphasized fun over work, making sure her kids were having a good time and didn't overexert themselves. She told him once that her instructors growing up had been absolutely monstrous, and she was determined to be the opposite. He liked that about her.

He liked everything about her. Unfortunately.

He was really straining himself not to fall head over heels for her, but what could he do? She was beautiful, and wicked, and charming, and there was this… _understanding_ between the two of them. He did not question why she needed a service dog, just like she didn't question why he still wore dog tags everywhere he went. Wherever they had come from, whatever had happened to them, they were the same. He wondered if she felt it, too. He tried not to wonder it too hard.

He had no intention of starting a relationship. And he didn't want to risk losing Rose's favorite thing. So he hid his face when he blushed, he swallowed his feelings, and he didn't say anything. He could hold out. It was hard when she smiled at him, but he could hold out.

Bucky and Rose stopped at a diner for dinner. They both had burgers, Rose ordering the vegetable of the day (sauteed green beans) instead of fries. Bucky tried not to laugh as she wolfed them down, obviously not enjoying the taste - she was still his daughter, after all. He surreptitiously nudged his plate across the table, and they both pretended she didn't pick at his fries as they finished their burgers. They had their ice cream - strawberry with chocolate sauce for her, chocolate with strawberry sauce for him - and headed home.

Rose was already asleep when they got to their apartment, her little head lolling against the side of her booster. Bucky slowly and carefully unbuckled her and carried her inside. He would come back for her bag later. He tucked her into her bed, and set an audiobook playing to help her sleep (he couldn't sleep in silence, either). 

At last, he took that shower he had been so craving earlier, letting the warm water sooth away his tiredness. There was a knot in his shoulder. He should probably see someone about that. He wouldn't though. 

He dried off, put on some clean nightclothes, and went to listen at Rose's door. Once he was sure she was asleep, he slipped out the door, emptied the trash, and headed down to the street. When he reached the front stoop, he found his second favorite redhead sitting on the stairs, clutching a blanket around her shoulders.

"...Nat?" he said softly. She turned to him with a pensive smile.

"Hello, James," she sighed. Bucky bristled at the name, but he was used to it by now. He set down his trash bag and took a step towards her. 

"Where's Zefir?" he asked.

"Eh... Didn't feel like waking him."

There really was a strange feeling out tonight. It was so quiet and still. Something in the air made his skin tingle. It felt like something was about to change. He couldn't shake it, and he wondered if that was why she was out here. She seemed like the sort to meet the oncoming storm rather than run from it.

"What's going on?" Bucky asked.

"Mm, watching the stars," Natasha said nonchalantly. "And finishing a bottle of vodka," she added, lifting the corner of her blanket to reveal a half drunk bottle.

Bucky recognized the label, and chuckled an impressed, "Oohf!" Natasha cocked an eyebrow, and he told her, "That's the good stuff."

" _Konechno_ ," Natasha shrugged, feigning offense. She took a swig, then held the bottle up to him. "Wanna help me finish it?"

Bucky chewed his lip, glancing up at the building. He did want to sit with her, and a drink wouldn't be bad. But he wasn't sure about leaving Rose alone for too long…

"She'll be fine," Natasha persuaded, as though she could read his mind. Bucky smirked and flumped down on the stoop beside her.

She proffered the bottle again, and he took a healthy swig. Immediately, he started coughing violently. It burned like anything. Natasha laughed at him.

"I don't, uh… I don't drink a lot anymore," Bucky defended himself, grinning through his watering eyes as he handed the bottle back.

"Bet even when you did, this shit still woulda knocked you on your ass," drawled Natasha, taking another, undaunted sip.

"Oh, it did a few times," Bucky conceded.

"Yeah? With who?" Natasha coaxed.

"Wouldn't you like to know," said Bucky with a waggle of his eyebrows. Natasha rolled her eyes, took a big gulp, and handed the bottle over again. Raising it to his lips, Bucky asked, "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," Natasha said blankly. Bucky fidgeted.

"You've seen some shit, huh?" he asked, not looking at her. Asking about this was breaking the rules, and he knew it. But what could he say? He was a rebel.

Natasha studied him, then whispered, "You too?"

In answer, Bucky took a good, solid chug, and held the bottle back out towards her. She set it down, and shifted to face him more squarely.

"Can I tell you something?" she breathed.

"Shoot," said Bucky with a short nod. 

"I didn't invite Rose into my class just to say thank you," Natasha admitted. Bucky raised a quizzical eyebrow, and she went on, "It was… an excuse to spend more time with you."

Bucky's mouth fell open and his breath caught in his throat. Natasha stared at him with an anxious, hopeful smile. Unconsciously, Bucky leaned closer, and he almost didn't catch himself.

"Shit!" He jerked away. He felt Natasha shrink.

"Cool. Definitely what I was looking for," she croaked.

"No, I-- It's not-- It isn't--" Bucky spluttered. _"Ffffuck…"_

He licked his lips and held his tongue between his teeth. He tried to find the words to explain, but he couldn't concentrate over the thrumming of his heart.

"Look, I-- I don't… date," he said finally. "Not for a long time."

"It's because of Rose?" Natasha asked with a crooked frown.

Bucky nodded. "I don't want her to get hurt."

Natasha snorted. "Of course you don't. You're her dad. That's your job."

"I know, but--"

"How long has it been?"

Bucky sucked his lip, and repeated, "A _long_ time."

"So are you protecting her, or are you protecting yourself?" Natasha asked.

_"Goddamn,"_ Bucky swore. "You don't pull any punches."

"Nope," said Natasha flatly. She reached up and tucked a lock of Bucky's hair behind his ear. "I only ask because one is a little less worth it than the other."

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. She was right. He'd known it for a long time. He had been asking himself the same question pretty much every since he had met her. She was just a little infuriating. But maybe he needed that.

Moreover, what he _needed_ , if he was going to break more rules tonight, was more courage. He picked up the vodka again, and took another big sip. He offered it to Natasha again, but she glanced at it then eyed him significantly. 

"Yeah," he agreed, and he downed the whole thing. "Fuck it."

He took her face in his hands and pulled her close. But right before impact, he hesitated. He searched her eyes. Was she okay with this? Was he okay with it? Fuck, what was _wrong_ with him?

"James?" Natasha murmured, putting her hands on top of his. "Stop overthinking it. Just do what feels right."

A small gasp escaped him. He pressed his lips into hers. It was… fireworks. A literal spark passed from her mouth to his, and it sent a jolt through him, like a jump start. He remembered this, like remembering fresh air after months indoors. It was the only thing that felt--

They both broke apart at the same instant. They stared at each other, hands to themselves. Recoiling, Natasha put a hand to her lips, eyeing Bucky like this was his fault. For his part, Bucky couldn't believe the thoughts in his head. This had to be the alcohol. 

"Did you feel that?" he asked in spite of himself. He had to be drunk or crazy or both. She couldn't have--

"When was the last time you felt something real?" said Natasha, though she seemed to know the answer.

Some kind of panic he didn't have a name for coursed through Bucky, and he rose to his feet. "I-I… I don't…"

Natasha caught his arm before he could retreat. She demanded, "How _long?"_

"I don't know."

Bucky heard himself say it, his own voice hollow and distant. It was true. How could he have never realized it before now? Nothing around him felt real. He could see it and he could touch it. He knew the ground beneath him was there because his feet stopped when they hit it, but he couldn't _feel_ it. He couldn't even feel the clothes on his skin. 

"I have to… _Rose_ ," stammered Bucky. He turned to leave, but Natasha tightened her grip.

"Don't leave me!" she begged. She was not one to beg, so he stayed despite his desperation. "Can you feel me? Am I real?"

"Yes. Yes!" Bucky choked. He blinked hard. He was sure the edges of his vision were fading, and it only served to make things that much worse. "I don't understand what's happening!"

"I think… I think we're waking up."

"From _what?"_

Natasha shook her head, bitter tears rolling down her frightened face. "I don't know."

"Rose," Bucky repeated. "I… I have to--"

"I don't think you can," Natasha implored. "I'm so sorry."

"She's…" Bucky said, the realization threatening to dawn, but he wouldn't let it. He shut his eyes, sobbing, _"Please…_ Please, she's not…"

Natasha threw her arms around his neck, holding onto him tight enough to break bones, but he didn't even feel pain anymore - if he ever had. She just whispered over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

The world spun, and faded, and was gone.

Bucky woke somewhere… somewhere dark. Cold. It smelled too clean, like… something clinical. He couldn't see anything. Was he wearing a mask? He tried to move, but he was strapped down. 

Well. Fuck.

"What happened?" said a voice.

Half a dozen other voices clamored to explain.

"The dosage was off! If we could have-"

"It was the calibrations! I needed more time--"

"There must be a bug in the program. Give me ten min--"

The first voice, stern and commanding cut through the din.

" **What** …happened?" it demanded, more threat than question.

"They trusted each other too quickly," said a single voice, one that hadn't spoken before. It sounded annoyed. "They weren't supposed to fall in _love_. They fall in love, they kiss. A charged kiss like that is just about the most visceral touch two humans can share. Pulled them right out of it."

"That's _preposterous_. They were supposed to trust each other. How else were they ever supposed to talk?" said one of the more argumentative voices.

"They didn't get to very much talking, did they?" said the annoyed voice. "Barely even touched on both having service history. The setup was too long, they built too much of a raport. This was inevitable. You can't stop them from being attracted to each other."

"...Well, we _could."_

"Not if you want this to _work."_ The annoyed voice grew more impatient, like it was the smartest one in the room, but no one ever listened to it. "They have to be drawn to each other, or they'll never confide in each other. It just can't play out all at once like that."

"How would you fix it?" said the stern voice.

The annoyed voice cleared its throat. "They need a different scenario. This one was too neutral and benign. They need higher stakes. Make them opponents, and then make them work together. That should keep them at arm's length but get the ball rolling." After a pause, it added, "And lose the kid."

"But she--"

"Lose her. She's a distraction."

Bucky had heard enough. He struggled against his restraints.

"Shit! He's waking up!"

"Put him back in!!"

"Back in _what??"_

"Put him in the assassin scenario. We'll tweak it later, just do it _now!"_

A buzzing sensation crossed the whole of Bucky's head, and he fell back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> OH SHIT you thought I was done just because it got to the deadline? Nah, son, this just means we're in my playground now. Tbh, I really had a great idea to incorporate all three of your prompts, but I could only finish the first part in time. I'm a pretty slow writer, which pairs SO well with overly ambitious ideas lol. Sorry if the ending was a little jarring. I meant to ease into it a little better, but c'est la vie. I might come back and edit a little more at some point, but lmao, it  
> s time for bed y'all ;)


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